The golden light of the "Purification" was no longer a glow, it felt like a physical weight. It pressed down on the rusted corrugated roofs of the camp, making the air taste like expensive incense. Outside the cistern, the silence was absolute—the kind of silence that precedes a landslide.
Elara was kneeling by a weapon crate, her movements methodical and terrifyingly calm. She was whetting her short sword with a steady, rhythmic shick-shick-shick. She didn't look up as Kai approached. Her hands were steady, but the leather straps of her armor were pulled so tight they were digging into her skin.
"They won't stop at you, Vane," she said, her voice a low, dangerous vibration. "Arthur's 'Purification' is a broad brush. He'll burn the district to ensure the 'glitch' is erased. We're going out the front. We'll make them pay for every inch of mud."
Kai felt a cold sweat prickling his neck. His heart—Vane's heart—was hammering against his ribs in a frantic, uneven rhythm. She's going to get everyone killed, he thought. And she's going to do it with a 'Heroic Vow' on her lips.
He looked at his UI.
[ENERGY LEVEL: 71%]
[WARNING: REBEL SINCERITY DETECTED — 'THE RESOLVE TO DIE WITH YOU']
[DECAY ACCELERATING: -2% PER MINUTE]
"No," Kai whispered. He couldn't let them be brave. If they died fighting for him, their sacrifice would flood his system with "Respect" and "Tragic Adulation," draining his kinetic storage to zero before Arthur even touched him. He needed them to think he was a piece of trash. He needed them to want to throw him to the wolves.
He turned and saw Mia, the little girl from the storage tent,watching him with wide, watery eyes.
"Mia," Kai hissed, crouching down. "Did your daddy use a thing, during town meetings.Perhaps a horn or a magical device that makes your voice loud.?"
The girl blinked, confused. "The Aether-Horn? It's in the dry-goods box. But Baron, are you—"
"Go get it. Now. I need you to help me."
A minute later, Kai was holding a dented, brass-belled megaphone etched with low-level resonance runes. He tucked it under his arm and began to walk toward the camp's main gate—a makeshift wall of junk and iron bars.
"Vane! Where are you going?" Elara barked, standing up.
Kai didn't look back. He just raised a hand, his fingers trembling—partly for the act, partly from the sheer terror of facing a Level 20 "Superman."
"I'm going to do what I do best, Elara," Kai called back in his highest, most grating tone. "I'm going to negotiate my way into a better set of shoes."
He stepped out of the gate and into the "No Man's Land" of the Rust District's main thoroughfare.
The sight was enough to make his "Software" want to crash. Hundreds of Golden Sentinels stood in perfect formation on the ridges above, their spears glowing with divine light. In the center, Arthur sat atop his white charger, his cape white as a cloud, his presence so overwhelming it felt like the sun had descended to Earth. But he had his own weapon against arthur- a forbidden memory
Kai raised both hands high above his head. He made sure his knees knocked together. He made sure the violet silk cravat was lopsided and ridiculous.
"Don't attack!" Kai shrieked, his voice cracking. "I'm coming out! I'm surrendering! Please, your light is very bright and I think I'm having a migraine!"
He brought the Aether-Horn to his lips. The runes flared blue.
"Your Highness! Prince Arthur! Radiant Savior! It's me! Baron Vane!"
The sound blasted across the district, echoing off the canyon walls. On the ridge, Arthur's horse shifted, and the Prince's head tilted. The massive, golden "Legend Score" above his head—50,000—flickered.
"I've come to apologize!" Kai wailed into the horn. "I realized my mistake! I remember now! The Spring Gala! Three years ago!"
A murmur went through the ranks of the Golden Sentinels. Many of them were younger sons of noble houses,they remembered the Gala. They remembered the most embarrassing night in the history of the court.
"I didn't mean to step on your Ceremonial Cloak of the Dawn!" Kai shouted, his voice amplified to a deafening roar. "I know it took six virgins three years to weave! I'm so, so sorry I tripped and spilled that entire tureen of spicy seafood bisque down your back! I know the smell of shrimp followed you for weeks! It was a tragedy!"
In the camp behind him, Kai heard the rebels gasp. Then, he felt it. The sharp, hot spike of collective embarrassment and renewed hatred.
[SPITE MULTIPLIER: x3.0]
[ENERGY +15%]
[CURRENT LEVEL: 86%]
"I'll polish your boots!" Kai continued, dropping to his knees in the mud and groveling forward. "I'll use my own silk cravat! Just please don't burn me! I'm too pretty to be ash! Look at me, Arthur! I'm a pathetic, bumbling mess! Surely a Great Warrior like you doesn't need to burn a whole city block just to squash a bug like me?"
On the ridge, Arthur's face—usually a mask of divine calm—began to twitch. The "Righteous Cleanser" narrative was slipping.
The civilians of Okelhaven, watching from their windows, were seeing a radiant, god-like Prince in full power preparing to slaughter an entire district for a man who was currently crying and talking about shrimp bisque.
[LEGEND SCORE UPDATE: ARTHUR -200]
[REASON: Pure hatred radiated from the people of the Rust District]
Behind Kai, Elara stood at the gate, her fists shaking so hard her knuckles were white. "Why..." she whispered, her voice thick with a strange, frustrated rage. "Why does watching him grovel make me want to kill him more than the Prince does?"
Arthur couldn't take it anymore. The "Joker" was dragging his holy moment into the dirt.
"Silence, you foul-mouthed leech!" Arthur's voice thundered, but it lacked the resonance it had an hour ago. It sounded... annoyed. Human.
The Prince leaped from his horse, his golden armor clanking as he hit the ground. He blurred—a streak of gold—and in the blink of an eye, he was standing ten feet from Kai. He drew a sword of pure, white light. The heat coming off it scorched Kai's eyebrows.
"Your cowardice offends the light itself, Vane," Arthur hissed, his eyes burning with a narcissistic fury. "You are a glitch. A stain. I will end you here and now, and the world will thank me for the silence."
He raised the sword. Kai tensed every muscle, preparing to dump 100% of his storage into a desperate Physical Reinforcement. He knew he'd be a vegetable for six hours after, but he had no choice.
"BROTHER, WAIT."
The voice was like a cool breeze on a feverish forehead.
From the sky, a massive snowy griffin descended, its wings kicking up a cloud of dust and mud. Perched on its back was a woman clad in flowing white robes, her hair a cascade of silver-gold. She held a staff topped with a crystal that hummed with a soft, diplomatic blue.
Princess Seraphine. The Diplomat Archetype. Arthur's sister.
"Arthur, stay your hand," she said, sliding off the griffin with practiced elegance. She didn't look at the mud or the slums; she looked directly at her brother. "The 'Purification' of a district containing three thousand registered taxpayers for the sake of one groveling Baron is a logistical and political nightmare. The Council of Lords is already questioning the cost of your 'Legend' adventures."
"He is an anomaly, Seraphine!" Arthur roared, his sword trembling. "The ACA flagged him! He shouldn't be able to survive the hits he's taken!"
Seraphine turned her gaze to Kai. Her eyes were like glass—clear, cold, and seeing right through the performance. She didn't hate him, and she didn't pity him. She viewed him as a "Variable."
"The ACA manages the narrative, brother. I manage the kingdom," she said smoothly. She leaned in and whispered something into Arthur's ear.
Arthur's face went through a kaleidoscope of emotions—rage, frustration, and finally, a cold, calculating resolve. He lowered his sword, the white light flickering out.
"Fine," Arthur spat, looking down at Kai with pure loathing. "Three days, Vane. The Summit of Lords convenes at the High Palace. You will be brought there in chains to answer for your family's decades of illegal levies and 'clerical' crimes. We will dismantle the House of Vane legally, in front of the world."
He stepped closer, his shadow swallowing Kai.
"Run, and I end you. Fight, and I burn everyone you've touched. You have seventy-two hours to enjoy your 'silk,' Baron. Use them well."
Arthur turned on his heel and strode back toward his army. Seraphine lingered for a moment, her gaze resting on Kai's violet cravat.
"A bold performance, Baron," she said softly. "But the stage is getting bigger. I suggest you find a better script before we reach the Palace."
She mounted her griffin and took to the sky, the Golden Army following the Prince back toward the ridge.
Kai stayed on his knees in the mud for a long time, the Aether-Horn still clutched in his hand. His energy was at 88%, his ribs were screaming, and he'd just avoided genocide by acting like a clown.
"Seventy-two hours," Kai whispered, his voice finally returning to its normal Earth-tone.
He looked back at the camp. The rebels were staring at him. There was no cheering. There was no "thank you." There was only a deep, unsettling silence. Elara stood at the gate, her sword sheathed, her eyes burning with a question he wasn't ready to answer.
[SYSTEM ALERT: THE SUMMIT OF LORDS INITIATED]
[OBJECTIVE: SURVIVE THE LEGAL DELETION]
[NEW ARCHETYPE DETECTED IN RADIUS: THE DIPLOMAT (SERAPHINE)]
Kai reached into his pouch and felt the carved wooden horse. "Well, Serene," he muttered. "I guess we're going to the Palace. I wonder if they serve shrimp bisque."